The Duck
by Always With Amy
Summary: It's probably not a good idea to trust strange men who refer to themselves as "The Duck," but desperate times call for desperate measures. - Not Blaine friendly. Est. Kurt/Blaine and Andie/Blane. Kurt/Sam romance. Sam/Duckie friendship.


Sam has no idea why he agreed to tag along with Kurt and Blaine to some godforsaken ancient-looking music store. Probably because Kurt asked him to, and Sam will be the first to admit that he can't deny Kurt anything.

But still, even he realizes that he shouldhave at least _tried _to say no. Spending an afternoon browsing through grimy shelves of carelessly marked-down CDs with Kurt might have been something he _possibly _could have enjoyed, but as he's learned very well lately, when Blaine is included in the mix, even the most pleasant of activities ends up going to shit. And this is definitely no exception, considering how Kurt and_ Blaine_ (also known as: Blair, Bland, Blame, Commander Douchefuck, Stranger Bitch, depending on Sam's mood) seem wonderfully cozy, their backs to Sam as they've apparently forgotten that he's here too, while they try to find the _perfect _song for them to request at Senior Prom in two weeks.

Sam is mulling over this shitty turn of events (the turn of events where _Blaine's finally decided to step up and be a __**real **__boyfriend to Kurt by "nobly" asking him to Prom_ – even though he didn't really _ask_, so much as, he made the assumption that they were going to in passing) by a clumsy stack of Springsteen when an unnerving voice from behind him notes, "Someone looks cheerful today – don't tell me you have a problem with _Tunnel of Love_?"

Turning around quickly, Sam finds himself face to face with an eccentrically dressed man who looks much younger than Sam suspects he is, leaning over the cashier's table and grinning at Sam rather like a Cheshire cat, only much creepier.

Uncertainly, Sam denies, "No – Springsteen's cool," as the guy quirks an eyebrow and rests his elbow on the counter; his chin on his fist. Sam doesn't really like how the guy's looking at him, and tries to avoid making eye contact. He ends up resting his gaze on the guy's nametag, which reads _The Duck_.

Sam honestly has no idea what the hell that's supposed to mean, but he's about three seconds away from dragging Kurt out of the store and to safety when the guy chuckles a little, and turns his head down to stare at a worn-white and stuck-tight sticker on the table.

"Lemme think for a second here," the guy says when he finally looks up from shaking his head in some sort of empathetic but condescending and mildly irritating way. Sam stares at him, and nods lightly to allow "The Duck" to do so, only because he can hear Blaine saying _something in_ that special way he has (that way of sounding like a supreme douche who _of course, has all the right answers_ and makes his _absolutely perfect boyfriend _feel like trash), and he'd rather not listen to that.

"You," The Duck begins with a grunt, as he hoists himself up to sit on the table, and pulls a knee to his chest in a way that might have looked kind of hipster, if it weren't for the fact that he has a few telltale wrinkles around his eyes that say _he's not that young. _"Completely loathe the one on the left, am I right?" he asks, grinning again as he nods at where Blaine is shaking a copy of _We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things _vehemently in his left hand, and is thrusting _Hands All Over _at an unhappy Kurt with his right.

Sam frowns, and shrugs noncommittally as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of the blue hoodie that he'd lent to Kurt last week, and that Blaine had made a point of returning – _for Kurt, _of course – just yesterday. (Sam might have been more annoyed, if it hadn't smelled like Kurt, and had that naturally soothing effect on him that everything Kurt-related always seems to.)

"Nah – I kinda like Mraz. He's not the best, but it wasn't that bad an album…"

The Duck doesn't say anything for a few moments, but Sam can feel his eyes on him. Confused, he turns to his right to face the guy – only to see that he's staring at Sam like Sam just sprouted a giant growth on his cheek or something.

Self-consciously, Sam ducks his head, trying to hide his blush beneath the now appropriately-short fringe that Kurt had insisted on cutting (and re-dying) for him a couple weeks back. The Duck just smiles a little, in either sympathy or amusement (Sam really can't tell, and that scares him a little), and remarks, "You – you're just_ so cute_, y'know that?

"I'm not talking about the CDs – to be honest with you, I'm only working here for…well, not the music." There's something to the self-depreciating smile that The Duck punctuates the sentence with – there's a sort of sadness to it that makes Sam regretting thinking that this guy is strange – but Sam doesn't ask, even though he gets the feeling that The Duck wouldn't hesitate to ask Sam if the roles were reversed. "I'm here to offer you some life advice – specifically, about the little guy that keeps dragging the brunette around the store."

Sam gives The Duck a skeptical look, which earns the response of a bright and cheery smile.

"I'm just going to come out and say it, my friend – he looks like a little bit of a douchebag. And believe me, I know douchebags when I see them," The Duck says amiably, with a thoughtful, wistful expression that doesn't quite fit his features, or his voice, or even the intonation of that one particular statement. It makes him sound – not exactly _bitter_, but just _regretful _in a way that makes Sam want to comfort him, somehow or other. (And not just because The Duck apparently agrees with Sam about Blaine. Although that does help, and is more than enough for Sam to be willing to overlook the fact that they've suddenly become "friends" without Sam's awareness.)

With a laugh that's unashamedly wry, Sam nods a little, and leans against the table behind him, that The Duck is still using as an apparently comfortable seat. "That seems pretty accurate to me."

And just when Sam's starting to think that he might like this Duck guy – he says something that totally shoots all that to hell. "You're kind of a douchebag too, if I can say so."

Sam thinks his expression does the job of conveying that _No, you can't say so _when The Duck raises his hands in innocence and requests, "Gimme a chance to explain myself, mon frère. No reason to glare; be cool.

"If you love him – the brunette, I mean, and don't try to deny it, because it's been written all over your face since you guys walked in – then you should do something about it. Letting him date an asshole makes you just as assholey, believe you me."

It's not like what he's saying isn't true – because Sam _knows _it is; he knows it every time that Kurt asks him to spend the night because he doesn't want to be alone, and Blaine won't make the drive; he knows it every time that he sees Blaine tearing Kurt down, and just _lets it happen _and doesn't say anything until he's in private with one of them; he knows it _every time _he sees Kurt fake a smile because he's _obligated_ to smile when they're talking about his _boyfriend_. It's just that it's one of those things Sam would really rather not be reminded about if it can be avoided, particularly not by some guy that he doesn't even know.

The Duck seems to realize as much, too, and just nods emphatically as he lets both legs down, and crosses one over the other.

"He's my best friend. I don't want to screw that up," Sam admits quietly, as he watches Kurt bite his lip the way that he was never so unconfident as to do _before _Blaine, and nod slowly in agreement to something that Sam knows he doesn't want to.

It's mostly silent for a few seconds, aside from Blaine's soft cooing into Kurt's displeased ear, before The Duck recommends pensively, "You shouldn't write yourself off so quickly. Maybe you're not meant to be anything more than friends, and if that's the way it is, you can't change it. But if you don't do anything about it, then for all you know, you're giving up the chance to have everything you've ever wanted in a person.

"I'm typically not one to preach what I don't practice, but if I were in your shoes? Which I'm glad I'm not, by the way – I quite like my own, thank you very much."

(They're two-tone, and dapper, but…odd. Sam's pretty sure he prefers his own Converses, too.)

"But if I _were_? I wouldn't miss my chance with someone that I care about, just because I'm afraid they won't feel the same."

Sam glances over at The Duck, whose face now reveals that there is _absolutely no question _that he's speaking from painful personal experiences. Sam opens his mouth to ask him about it; to try and offer some sort of sympathy, or to do _something _in exchange for what he's doing for Sam, in his strange way – but then the bell on the front door jingles, and a young woman (thirty or so, Sam guesses) with short, ginger hair and a man's arm wrapped over-protectively around her waist (the same way that Blaine's always is Kurt's, Sam notices) walks in. The Duck instantly puts on a good-natured grin that suddenly seems a little false, and waves with unnecessary childishness to the woman. She smiles lightly, and rolls her eyes at him.

The man at her side tightens his grip on her waist perceptibly, and frowns at The Duck with clear venom.

The Duck leans over to the side slightly, and whispers into Sam's ear, "That, good pal, is my best friend, the woman of my dreams, and the love of my life. And her high school sweetheart, husband, and first love, Blane."

Sam gives The Duck an apologetic look that the older man dismisses with a shrug that isn't fooling Sam in the slightest.

"Hey there, Blane of my existence – how's it going?" The Duck calls over to the woman's husband with loaded malice in his tone.

Sam mostly fails at resisting the urge to laugh when a startled Blaine Anderson turns around, and gives The Duck an inquisitive, and annoyed, look. He leaves while Blaine is checking out with Kurt, The Duck smirking at the shorter boy all the while, and says his goodbye to Kurt by way of an affectionate hug that he _knows_ Blaine clenches his teeth in response to.

The next day, Sam comes back and picks up that copy of _We Sing, We Dance, We Steal Things_. Two days after that, he stops in to thank The Duck – Duckie, as he's been told he's allowed to call the man – for the advice, and informs him that after a "touching performance" of _If It Kills Me_ by himself, Kurt and Blaine have broken up due to _irreconcilable differences, _according to Kurt. (Which, as everyone who's heard it – no really, _everyone _– knows, _actually_ means _He doesn't have to tell himself he's in love with Blaine anymore._)

Two and a half weeks later, Sam and Kurt show up, hands intertwined and shoulders knocking together _casually_, and spend the afternoon browsing the grimy shelves of carelessly marked down CDs.

It's surprisingly enjoyable, even with Duckie intoning _I told you so_ every time that Sam passes by.

_**xoxox**_

**AN: **Molly Ringwald (80's-era) is my spirit animal.

**AN (2): **Errors are mine alone.

**AN (3): **Guise, this is **not. serious. **I mean, it is serious, in the way that I don't like Blaine, and I think that Kum is endgame, but – don't come to me with your creys, mmkay? It's just…IDEK, it's not meant to sincerely offend anyone. :I (Although I gotta say, if you've been voting for Blaine in the After Elton poll, I am _judging you_ _so hard_, and am not going to offer any apologies if you _are _offended..)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.


End file.
